The bed she lays

Love is so superficial when it's not occurring....so natural and real when it's beginning and so hard when it's going on...I guess I feel as if I am trapped loving someone whom looks through me as if I'm a corpse. It's truly sickening

It took you days Death shadows over the bed she lays Crass words jotted on a spiteful page And nothing beautiful in sight

The way she played The way her hair blew with grace The way no one got in the way The day that beauty died

The sheets were stained A cold hand gripping the pen of destain And you couldn't find a wife

The arms of another Pirouetting one of your fretful brothers Lining the halls are all of your mother She was never there Ones Hollywood delight

And murder she wrote With the pencil of fear This may be may But nothing for you my dear And nothing touchingly bright

Something off Out of sight Something set someone else alight The cigar smoke that forms the kite Blows half the winds away

A book of lies Lays on her shelf A knife in one hand Belted out she felt Nine months of poison Scattered on the bloom of hate No one could dare berate No one could move Suddenly crude Nothing I could say I loved you Janne

.... Love, Speedway

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